Chapter 70
Chapter 70
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: Snow Mountain Old Man's True Arrangement
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Heuk Do-san shook his head vigorously.
"Stop thinking about it."
Trying to understand the ramblings of a mad old man would only give him a headache. That's why he was mad—because it couldn't be grasped with common sense.
Suddenly, an indescribable abdominal pain gripped his lower belly.
He had passed out for an entire day without treating his internal injuries, so by now his guts were probably filled with stagnant blood. If he didn't hurry, he could lose his life. Still, he wanted to say one last thing to the Snow Mountain Old Man.
"Even if it's not personal enmity, a murderer like you deserves a thousand cuts and ten thousand dismemberments."
"Every martial artist lives with blood on their blade. Why call me a murderer?"
"Do you truly not know? Or are you just shameless?"
"Enlighten me."
"You're hopeless to the end. I hear you cultivate your arts by sucking the vital energy from living people? Heaven gave birth to man, so man's code is to follow heaven. You've defied heaven's will. That's something no human should do to another."
"Heaven's will?"
"The great do not trample the small, the strong do not bully the weak, the many do not harm the few, and the noble do not arrogate over the base. That is heaven's will."
"That's the teachings of the Mohists. I heard their secret texts were branded forbidden and vanished long ago, but it seems you had the fortune to encounter them."
"What nonsense are you spouting? I've never even laid eyes on a Mohist secret text."
"Is that so? How peculiar."
"Enough of that. Let's end this."
Heuk Do-san readjusted his grip on the iron rod.
At that moment, the abdominal pain returned. The agony felt like his intestines were being sliced open with a knife, and he grimaced without realizing it.
"Your internal injuries seem severe."
"Not your concern. Hurry and stick your head out. I'd love to rip out your tendons one by one and make you suffer, but considering your age, I'll send you off cleanly with one strike."
"Not because it's a hassle?"
"Damn it! Stick your head out!"
"There's Azure Stone Milk."
"What did you just say...?"
"Azure Stone Milk. Even if you're not a martial artist, you've surely heard of it at least once?"
Kongcheong referred to the blue stones that grew only in deep underground caves. Azure Stone Milk was the milky droplets clinging to those blue stones, formed over long ages from the earth's mystical energies coalescing.
Legend had it that a single drop formed every ten years. One drop could cure all ailments as if washed away, and a mouthful granted a full decade's worth of internal energy—a spirit medicine among spirit medicines.
But that was just a myth spun by martial artists who loved tall tales.
"What trick are you trying now?"
"Surely you saw the blue vein embedded in the cave wall? That's no ordinary luminous stone."
"You're claiming that's kongcheong stone?"
"Why do you think I chose to hole up in this high, cold, remote snow peak's underground cave of all places?"
"..."
"I've gathered Azure Stone Milk for fifty years. It's just enough for one cup, but it'll cleanly heal your internal injuries in three or four days."
"There's really Azure Stone Milk?"
"Would I lie about something so easily exposed just to buy half a gahyun more life?"
"It'll at least buy some time."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So full of suspicion."
"Fine. So what do you want in return?"
"I've already received my payment."
"What did I give you?"
"You drank a cup of water."
"That's it?"
"To an old man facing death, it's worth more than Azure Stone Milk."
Something felt off about the atmosphere.
The Snow Mountain Old Man's attitude toward him seemed somehow softer.
Was this mad old coot finally coming to his senses at the end?
No way.
Just look at that bastard Seb Dae-gang—he proved humans never change. Once a bastard, always a bastard.
"You're not trying to poison me, are you?"
"I don't know if following heaven's will is man's duty, but sometimes there's an irresistible force at work."
"..."
"People call it fate. If fate comes knocking for you, don't bother denying it even if you don't want it. I tried, and it was just exhausting and pointless. Kahahaha."
"What drivel are you spouting?"
"On the inner wall of the alcove, there's a small bronze mirror. Remove it, and you'll find a jade vial sealed with pitch. The Azure Stone Milk is inside. Good luck to you."
With that, the Snow Mountain Old Man closed his eyes as if he'd said all he needed to. Heuk Do-san raised the iron rod high. One strike, and the breath of the great demonic head who once shook the martial world would be cut short.
Yet for some reason, he hesitated.
No matter how vile the man, bludgeoning an unarmed, wrinkled old codger to death felt queasy.
Or maybe their needless long talk at the end stirred a bit of pity.
'I need to check if the Azure Stone Milk is real first.'
"Give me a moment. If you're human, use the time to reflect on your life. It ends in death anyway."
Heuk Do-san gave himself a justification. Then he picked up the lamp and entered the alcove.
Sure enough, there was a bronze mirror he hadn't noticed before. Removing it revealed a small jade vial deeply sealed with pitch in a recessed hollow.
As he pushed the lamp into the hollow, a strange sight appeared. Beyond the jade vial, another space faintly came into view.
"What the...?"
Curiosity piqued, Heuk Do-san pocketed the jade vial and squeezed his body into the narrow hollow.
His guess was right.
Moments later, he dropped into another stone chamber connected to the alcove. He shone the lamp around.
About twenty pyeong in size. The walls of the modestly spacious chamber were densely inscribed with unknown lines and characters.
"What's this now?"
After examining the walls for a long time, Heuk Do-san finally found the starting point of the vast inscription.
An astonishing tale was written there.
"If someone reads this stone inscription in the future, I will already have turned to bones.
My name is Yang Dae-gwang, known in the martial world as the Snow Mountain Old Man. What follows is the origin story of the Snow Mountain Sect, which will become your sect. Read with reverence and engrave it in your heart."
Heuk Do-san froze and stopped reading. It looked like that lunatic outside had carved it, and reading it felt like becoming his disciple.
But he quickly changed his mind.
Seb Dae-gang had already taken the Ten Myriad Great Heavens manual, and both he and the Snow Mountain Old Man would soon die. On the brink of death, what was there to fear?
"Damn old fart. Let's see what grand origin you have that you left behind a stone inscription for."
"I first met him when I was twenty. It was in a cave I took shelter in during a blizzard, deep in a valley while digging for Ten Thousand Year Snow Ginseng on the Great Snow Mountain.
I still don't know who he was or why he had frozen to death in that remote wilderness.
From his clothing, he seemed from the Song Dynasty, so at least five hundred years dead.
Before him lay an iron bamboo rod, exquisitely forged from fine blue steel.
Unfortunately, back then I had no eye for such things and had no idea it was a divine weapon martial artists dreamed of even in their sleep."
Heuk Do-san was startled.
He knew the iron bamboo rod had an extraordinary history, but to think it was wielded by some Song Dynasty eccentric.
'Is it that big a deal?'
"I sensed he had an extraordinary background and searched the cave. I found two unidentified manuals.
On parchment that seemed about to crumble away were the five clear characters: Ten Myriad Great Heavens Scripture.
That was the moment my fate as a mere herb gatherer changed forever. I regretted that day endlessly.
But if I could go back, would I choose differently?
Probably not.
That was my fate."
Even in the brief account, Heuk Do-san could read the Snow Mountain Old Man's conflict. He didn't know what story led him to the warrior's path.
But he wanted to change his life through fateful opportunity, and after becoming a warrior, he yearned for the simple herb gatherer's life instead.
"But Ten Myriad Great Heavens Scripture?"
Why scripture, not palm? The reason was soon revealed.
"The Ten Myriad Great Heavens Scripture is not a specific weapon art or fist technique. It is the foundational internal cultivation method for all martial arts.
One who masters it wields the sword as the Ten Myriad Great Heavens Sword, the fist as the Ten Myriad Great Heavens Fist.
I used palms, so ignorant martial artists dubbed it the Ten Myriad Great Heavens Palm.
I didn't dislike the name. Truthfully, I wasn't worthy of anything grander."
Generally, renowned internal martial arts in the world are built on specialized methods to explosively raise power to destructive levels—either emission techniques or circulation methods. These are called internal cultivation methods.
The Shaolin Temple's Damo Muscle Reversion Scripture, the Huashan Sect's Purple Divine Art, the Wudang Sect's Crimson Sun Divine Art, and so on.
Called foundational, they are actually the core practice, demanding far more effort and time than weapon or fist arts.
And one more thing.
Once you build internal energy with a sect's method, its unique nature prevents casually practicing another sect's method.
Thus, choosing a sect requires utmost caution. Once chosen and initiated as a direct disciple, you were bound for life barring rare exceptions.
That's why master-disciple and sect bonds were as tight as parent-child.
The stone wall inscription continued.
"According to the manual, the Ten Myriad Great Heavens Scripture divides into core art and auxiliary art .
The core art builds internal energy by absorbing vital energy from the living, as true martial arts should. The auxiliary art draws corpse energy from the dead.
The core art's vital energy merges smoothly without clashing with the cultivator's pure qi, hence called yang art. The auxiliary art's corpse energy clashes violently, risking qi deviation anytime, hence yin art.
The core art harmonizes easily even with other sects' internal energy and leaves no blood debt mark when absorbing vital energy.
Conversely, the auxiliary art kills instantly if practiced by those with other sects' internal energy, so only commoners ignorant of martial arts or pure external art practitioners can learn it.
Moreover, absorbing corpse energy inevitably leaves a blood debt mark, branding you a vile demonic head in the eyes of the world.
In short, the core art is a martial art where I kill to live; the auxiliary, where I die to let others live.
Asking which is stronger—core or auxiliary—is foolish. It depends solely on the cultivator's talent and attainment."
"What the hell is all this?"
Let him sort it out.
First, the Ten Myriad Great Heavens Palm wasn't a palm technique as known; it was an internal cultivation method amplifying any martial art.
Second, the Ten Myriad Great Heavens Scripture—or Palm—divided into core and auxiliary. Core absorbed vital energy from the living to build internal energy; auxiliary, corpse energy from the dead.
Third, the core art stole lives from the living without leaving a blood debt mark and could be practiced even with other sects' internal energy.
The auxiliary, absorbing corpse energy from the dead—a lesser evil—still left a mark, inviting martial law pursuit. It risked qi deviation from clashes and couldn't be practiced with other internal energy present.
"What kind of bullshit is this?"
Heuk Do-san couldn't hide his shock.
This differed greatly from what Gong Cheon-ak had told him. But the stone inscription wasn't over. And what followed was beyond imagination.